Sometimes Relationships Just Don't Work
by england-has-swag
Summary: AU. It's a short drabble I wrote for one of my followers on Tumblr. Arthur gets into an argument with Alfred. Things don't end well. Warnings: Angst, Assumed Character Death


Alfred and Arthur were both curled up on the couch. There were a few inches of snow outside, and though the house was warm, the frost decorating the windows indicated how cold it really was outside.

It had been like this for a few weeks now, actually. The snow would fall for a couple of hours, then stop, leaving a thick comforter of snow over everything unprotected by a roof. The sun was out, but it wasn't even close to being warm enough to melt the sheet of snow. So, it would snow again a few days later, adding inches to the sparkling sheet that had already been laid down. In this part in the pattern, it was currently snowing heavily, if you could call it that. The wind whipped at the sides of the house, causing it to make strange noises every once in a while. Other than that, it was peaceful.

The two were tangled up in a few blankets, Arthur with a cup of warm tea in his hands, and Alfred with some hot chocolate. The heat in the house was on, but it still seemed very cold. They'd been sitting watching movies for a long while, now, and Arthur had lost track of time. He glanced at his watch, but was unfazed by how late it was.

Usually, he would've been okay with the silence that lingered on for hours… But tonight he was feeling conversational. The blonde already knew it was no use, though. Alfred never seemed to want to share anything. Well, the least he could do was try.

"…what are you thinking?" he questioned softly, breaking the silent streak.

Alfred jumped slightly, having gotten accustomed to the only sounds around them being the house creaking, the low murmur of the television, the sound of them drinking their beverages, and the occasional cough or sneeze. He blinked and looked at the other as if he was crazy. "Why do you want to know?"

Arthur sighed in slight irritation. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. He wanted more of a connection with the other, though. They'd been dating for a few months, and he still knew practically nothing about Alfred. "Why should it matter? I just want to get to know you better. We always talk about me, but we never talk about you," he explained, hoping that would convince him.

Alfred simply shrugged. "I like talking about you." He didn't really see what the problem was. There was no need for him to share such personal things about himself, and he didn't see that as a good reason for Arthur wanting to know.

The Brit set his tea down on the chestnut coffee table in front of them. He turned towards the other, showing that his focus was completely on him, as he ignored the T.V. that had been their source of entertainment for the past few hours. "I just want to know, all right? I don't think it's very fair that you know so much about me, but to me, you're still a mystery."

Alfred simply rolled his eyes, and continued watching a movie. "I don't really see the problem."

Arthur sat there for a minute, his mouth hanging open slightly. He was trying to explain that it was important to him to know more about the other. Apparently Alfred didn't care. Which made him feel like Alfred didn't care enough about him to tell him simple things. He stood. "I'm leaving," he muttered.

The other looked up, blinking in surprise. "Wha- Why? It's still nasty out there, and I picked you up… What are you going to do, walk?"

He simply nodded. He wasn't going to stay where he didn't feel cared about. He took his cup into the other room, and rinsed it out, then set it carefully in the sink, making sure his actions didn't reveal how angry he actually was.

Alfred got up as well, following Arthur into the other room. "What? No, you can't just walk. Your house is almost a mile away, and with the way it's snowing out there, you can't see two feet in front of you."

Arthur shook his head, and began getting his things together in the bag he had packed. When the other had first picked him up, he'd planned on spending a few nights here, but now he supposed that it didn't matter. He wouldn't bother coming back over.

"I'm not just going to let you go. It's the middle of the night!" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?!"

Arthur, who had been putting on his jacket, looked up, and glared at the other. "/You're/ talking about /me/ being stubborn? You're the one who's so damn tight lipped about everything!" he huffed, then pulled his hat over his ears. He started to put his boots on.

"I still don't get why it matters to you so much! Can't you just be happy?" Alfred questioned, growing increasingly worried by the minute. Arthur couldn't just leave, could he? He wanted to make the other stay, but that wouldn't feel right.

Arthur shook his head. "Exactly. You /don't/ get it. I'm done with feeling like I'm not cared about. I'm sorry. It's over," he said, a sad look in his eyes, as he opened the door, and headed out into the cold, cold night.


End file.
